Set Me Ablaze
by Weasleysandmalfoys
Summary: What happens when you get a get second chance to meet someone for the first time?
1. Second chance at first impressions

**Disclaimer.**.. Do i honestly have to do this every chapter.. Do you think if i owned harry potter ramione would have happened or id be sitting here at 1 am writing fanfiction.. Come on now.. But anyway everything belongs to the beautiful and talented J.

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At age twenty-six, two months and five days, Helena George was on her way to her very first date—a drink with a man named Alexander at the Leakey Cauldron in Diagon Alley. This wasn't her first date because she hadn't had the opportunity before, but because, as of a week ago, she didn't exist.

Helena George was the newly assumed dating identity of Hermione Granger, whose last name branded her as a member of the Wizarding World's war heroines, brightest which of the age and best friend of Harry Potter. She'd discovered the hard way that her mother's constant warning was right on the…wait for it…money: "Men will either not want you because of your name and accomplishments, or want you only because of it."

Her boyfriend Ron hadn't wanted her, becoming increasingly uneasy dealing with any family matters and threatened by her independence. Her boyfriend Terry had wanted her, or so she thought, until she found out he only wanted what she could pay for, charming his way into her affection at the same time he was charming his way into another woman's pants. And those were just the last two.

Hermione wasn't willing to chuck all she had done for the sake of finding but she was willing to get rid of the name, temporarily. Her conscience pricked her for the irony of looking for honest love with a lie, but she wasn't going to take on another personality or misrepresent herself in any other way. And if she found a wonderful man she trusted enough to reveal her secret to and he couldn't come up with enough empathy to understand her reasons, then he wasn't that wonderful after all.

The restaurant sat on a busy muggle street in the middle of London, surrounded by people just to busy or uncaring anout what was really going on. Hermione apparated to the nearby alley to gather her with to herself. She took a long breath and blew it out slowly, nervous but confident she wouldn't show it. If the war had taught her anything, it was how to maintain grace under pressure..

Steeping out onto the sidewalk, and into the chilly air. A form-fitting blue wool dress adjusted, then one matching blue ballerina flat in front of another, Hermione made her way to the front door.

She'd found Alexander through , a company run by the attractive and indomitable Lavender Brown, who personally interviewed and provided guidance to each client joining the site. Hermione had asked to meet quiet, financially and emotionally stable men on the theory that they'd be less likely to be attracted to the spotlight—and less likely to see her as a ticket to whatever they wanted from life since they'd be able to provide it for themselves. Everything except her, of course.

Alexander worked in the Department of Magical Transportation, which didn't exactly light fires of curiosity inside Hermione, but then her career as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcemnt, might seem dull to him, as well.

Inside, the restaurant was warm and bustling, booths filled with families and couples along with many atbthe bar itself. Hermione stood just inside the entrance, smiling self-consciously, not seeing anyone who looked like Alexander. On he'd seemed decently attractive—light brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, kind of serious. But his letters had been pleasant, and she'd had a nice floo conversation with him when they'd arranged to meet.

As she scanned the room, her attention was caught by the back of one of the bartenders, his broad shoulders working as he poured, mixed and shook, selecting bottles with unerring aim, tossing them briefly in the air to change his grip. She absently wondered if Alexander was at one of the tables along the wall, thinking if he didn't show, she'd be perfectly happy standing there gaping at the bartender all evening.

Drinks in hand, he turned around, and with a graceful flourish, placed them in front of a couple seated at the bar. Mmm, very handsome as well as sexy.

He looked up. Breath rushed into Hermione's body in a silly gasp.

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

It was Draco Malfoy.

He met her eyes with the same unerring aim he'd used to grab the bottles, as if he'd been aware of her watching him all this time and had chosen this moment to pounce with his gaze. His eyes were silvery gray, their unusual color making them leap out of his face. The color, and also the life and warmth and intelligence they held. And because he was gorgeous. And amazingly hot. And had she mentioned gorgeous?

"Helena?" A gentle touch on her shoulder.

Gah! She realized suddenly that her pseudonym had been called more than once behind her, but because the name was only distantly familiar—and the bartender was so yummy—she hadn't responded immediately.

Wrenching her eyes away from the bartender's gray, black-lashed magnets, she turned to find poor Alexander looking anxious. "Alexander! Hello."

"Oh." His face relaxed into relief. "I thought it was you, but then you didn't answer and I started thinking I'd made a mistake."

She laughed inanely. "Sorry. I was…distracted."

To put it mildly. Her heart still hadn't slowed and she had to use physical force to keep from pivoting back for another eyeful.

"That's okay." Alexander motioned to an empty table by the window behind the hostess station. "I was here early so I got us a place to sit."

"Great, thank you." She headed for the table, but gave into the urge for one last peek, finding him polishing a glass with a white towel. Watching her.

Another jolt of electricity to her stomach. She was not going to look his way again. She remebered his reputation from school, he was apleyer amd probably kept tabs on every women that came in. A nice guy like Alexander deserved her full attention for the rest of their date.

Except that the rest of their date seemed to go on and on and on. Alexander was shy and sweet, which meant the bulk of the conversational initiative landed on Hermione, and in spite of her vow to concentrate on getting to know him, either he was extremely reserved or there wasn't much to get to know.

Finally, when she couldn't stand one more minute of searching for another topic he could conceivably contribute more than a few words to, she excused herself to the ladies' room. Lavender had said Alexander might need drawing out, but Hermione didn't expect to need veritaserum.

On her way to the bathroom, she found herself, oh heaven, in front of the bar again. She scanned the room for signs to the restroom and came up empty, probably because she much preferred muggle bars and really hadnt been to the Leakey Cauldron since her school days.

So. Um. Maybe she'd have to ask someone for help.

Someone who worked there.

Like maybe…

She turned, and nearly jumped out of her skin when her eyes collided with his extraordinary silver ones. He'd been watching her again. Sexy mouth curving into a smile, he held up his hand, index finger pointing.

Hermione's gaze followed the line of his finger to a sign: Ladies.

She mouthed thank you and fled, only able to stand so much titillation—all of it experienced without even speaking to him. Without touching him, God forbid. If she ever got within a few feet, she'd probably explode into ash.

Too bad she wouldn't get to discover what that was like.

On the way back from the bathroom, she had to pass him again. Tough, tough job. This time he was smiling at another female customer, which was a good thing because it reminded her that even though that smile was charming as hell, he probably used it on every woman in the room. One of those guys whose broadcasted attention had more to do with "Aren't I attractive?" than "I think you are."

Even so, just before she passed him, she gave a good solid sigh of regret. She was going back to Alexander to excuse herself from the date, which meant she wouldn't be able to gaze or glance or gawk at this astonishingly attractive man anymore.

Pity.

Just before she lost him from sight, as if he had a frequency tuned into her, his head lifted; his gray eyes zapped her again, just as powerfully as the first time. And the second. And third… He moved to a spot farther down the bar where a chair had been shoved to one side and pointed straight at her.

Hermione gulped. Gestured to her chest, in the center of which her heart had begun to hammer. "Me?"

He nodded, flipped over his palm and beckoned, mouthing words she couldn't hear but could somehow understand as plainly as if he'd said them right into her ear.

Yes. You. Come here.

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A/N so brand new idea for a story that just wouldnt leave me alone until it became words on a paper. When i have to go to school tomorrow. And its 1am.. Oh well let me know what you think continue or not delete this and pretend like it never happened doesnt matter just tell me something.


	2. A Deal is Made

Disclaimer... Do i honestly have to do this every chapter.. Do you think if i owned harry potter ramione would have happened or id be sitting here at 1 am writing fanfiction.. Come on now.. But anyway everything belongs to the beautiful and talented J.

P.S thanks for everyone who reviewed or subscriped, you guys make my day.

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Chapter Two

Hermione Granger approached the long bar at The Leaky Cauldron, located in Diagon Alley. She'd been drawn to the sexy bartender all evening, and none other than Draco Malfoy, and he'd made it very, very difficult to keep her attention on Alexander, her first date from —so far not a success.

She'd fled from the pressure of making yet more stilted conversation with Alexander—a girl could only talk so much—and gone to the ladies' room. She was on her way back to the table when she passed the bar and there he was again, her once school nemesis she couldn't seem to look away from—tall, built and beckoning.

Yes. You. Come here.

What would he say? What did he want? Many ideas sprang to mind, but she shrugged them away. Why indulge romantic fantasy when he could be about to tell her she was a filthy mudblood, like he was so happy to remind her in school?

"You want me?" she said as she approached the chair he'd indicated and gripped it. Her voice sounded breathless and silly, her question a waste of words that could have been sensual and suggestive in the right tone. His deep gray eyes, surrounded by dark lashes, did something very primal and powerful to her sanity.

"Yes, I do."

"What's up?" Somehow she managed to sound more casual that time, though her brain was screaming, he wants me?

"Well." He leaned on the bar, looking as if he'd been coached by a photographer for a Sexiest Bartender Alive segment. Biceps, triceps, pecs, oh baby, he had them all. And because he was wearing a black T-shirt instead of the uniform the other bartenders wore, she could really enjoy the view. "I have something to tell you."

"Ye-e-es?"

He stuck out his hand. "I'm Draco."

He didn't recognize her. Oh Merlin.

"Oh?" Hermione took it trying to figure out exactly what was going on here. His palm was warm, his handshake firm. She was afraid hers was clammy from having just washed it. "That's what you wanted to tell me?"

"No, that's an introduction." He quirked an eyebrow, still holding her hand. "Usually the other person responds with an introduction of her own. And you are…?"

"He—" she caught herself, almost providing her real name. This was the opportunity she was looking for. A chance to start over with the one man sworn to hate her and everything she was. Maybe this could even be a little bit of fun she so desperately needed. "I'm Helena. George."

"Helena." The way he said it made shiver run down her spine. "Nice to meet you."

"Same here." She extracted her hand from his, feeling guilty for leaving poor Alexander alone for so long but not having the willpower to move away from Malfoy. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Have you been to the Leaky before?"

"Yes." She waited expectantly for him to say something else. "Was that it?"

"Nope." He folded muscular arms across that magnificent chest. "You from London?"

"Born and raised. That it now?"

"Not yet." He waved to someone down the bar who must have made some signal that caught his eye. Lord knew Hermione hadn't been paying the slightest attention to anything but Malfoy. He turned his attention back to her; by now she'd learned to expect the shock of those eyes. "What are you drinking?"

"Chardonnay." She nodded in triumph. "That has to be it."

"Not that either. Want another glass on the house?"

"I'm about to leave, but thank you." She quirked an eyebrow, waiting him out.

"Okay." He leaned toward her again, elbow resting on the bar this time. Hermione had a sudden strong desire to reach out and let her hand slide down the moguls of his shoulder and arm. The force of the urge unnerved her. Usually she took a while to be physically comfortable with a man. "I just thought you should know…"

He looked one way then the other, as if expecting to be overheard. Hermione gave in and stepped right up to the bar, not sure which instinct she was following, the one that wanted to be sure to hear him or the…other one.

"That guy you're with?"

She started. Whatever she'd expected him to say, that wasn't it. "Alexander?"

"Yeah. Alexander." He shook his head gravely. "Not the guy for you."

She was a little alarmed. Marie Hewitt had assured her that all MagicalDates clients were carefully checked out. But people could slip between the cracks, she supposed. "You know him?"

"Nope." There was that infuriating smirk. "Never seen him before."

"So…" She narrowed her gaze suspiciously, a smile tugging her lips. "What makes you think he's wrong for me?"

"With the right man, a woman should shoot off sparks. She should look electrically charged."

"With her hair standing on end?"

"Yes." A grin transformed his masculine face into the disarming sweetness of a boy next door and it nearly dropped Hermione to her knees.

She put her hands on her hips. "So what you're saying is that I look bland and have limp hair."

"Ohh, no." He shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying. You just shouldn't be with that guy."

A little tingle started somewhere in the pit of her belly. "And you're an expert because…"

"Watching people is part of my job."

"As well as giving dating advice?"

"No." He shook his head. "I'm doing that just for you."

"Why?" The tingle threatened to become an out-and-out tremble. She found herself holding her breath.

He shrugged. "Because you seem famillar and I noticed you. And him."

"Well, that's…nice of you. Thank you."

"Anytime. You ever go to Hogwarts?"

"Uh…" Was that any of his business? Her naturally private nature set in as she battled whether or not she considered allowing this man to figure out that she was the girl he once thought less than the dirt on his shoes. "Maybe, but I'll never tell."

"Tell you what." He looked over his shoulder at a new cluster of customers just arriving at the bar and took a step toward them, throwing her a wink. "Bring all your dates here, and I'll check them out for you."

Hermione had no idea how to react to that offer. Coming from anyone else it was an intrusive, arrogant and bizarre thing to say. Out of that mouth, which tempted her nearly unbearably, she was nothing but intrigued. "And rating my dates should be your job, why?"

"Because, Helena—" he threw her another killer smile, sauntering backward toward the new customers "—that way I'm sure you'll come back to me."

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A/N so another chapter, still kinda iffy on this one. Let me know what you think.


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